A New Adventure
by WinterSky101
Summary: Agents Fulcrum and Targeter have a mission together. Pre-Rogue One.
1. Chapter 1

**Title comes from this Patrick Lindsay quote: "Every new friend is a new adventure." Chapter two will be posted next Friday.**

* * *

Cassian will never admit it, but he's a bit wary about his upcoming assignment.

It's not that he doesn't think he can do it. He needs to infiltrate an Imperial Academy, figure out why some students - including their former mole - are disappearing, and hopefully recruit some future double agents. It's a little tricky, especially since he can't bring K-2SO along, but he'll be able to get it done. The datapad regarding the mission has told him that he's going to be going in as an Imperial inspector, which gives him the freedom to investigate without being too suspicious and also gets him into the academy when he's much older than the average student. Overall, it's not the hardest mission he's ever had.

The thing he's wary about is the fact that he's going to be doing the assignment with a fellow intelligence agent, whom he's never met.

The file on her is scant, but the files on most of the Rebel intelligence officers are scant. Her code name is Targeter, real name classified. That's about the only thing the file tells him. She must be fairly good or she wouldn't have been put on his assignment, but Cassian isn't a fan of working with people he doesn't already know. He knows he doesn't have a choice, though, and that might be making him scowl a bit more than usual as he heads to the briefing, where he's going to meet this mysterious Targeter for the first time.

Draven is already there when Cassian shows up. "Andor. Good. Your partner should be arriving any minute."

"Why am I being given a partner on this assignment, sir?"

Draven scowls. "Not my call. But Targeter has a good reputation, so we can hope she lives up to it."

"I hope to meet your expectations," an unfamiliar voice replies. A girl steps out of the shadows in the corner of the room. She's wearing the typical brown secondhand clothes of a rebel with an added sleeveless jacket and pair of gloves. Around her hips is a belt with a holstered blaster. Her hair is glossy black and pulled back tightly, with only a few strands hanging around her face. Her eyes are slanted and her cheekbones are sharp.

She also looks like she's about fifteen years old.

"Targeter, I assume?" Draven asks. If he's surprised by her youth, he doesn't show it.

Cassian supposes that, considering he started fighting for freedom when he was six, he has no room to judge anyone else for being too young. But being a good intelligence officer requires experience, and he doubts someone as young as Targeter appears to be can have that much experience. And if that inexperience compromises his ability to do his job…

"You assume correctly, General Draven." The girl looks over Cassian quickly. "And you must be Agent Fulcrum."

"I look forward to working with you, Agent Targeter," Cassian says, his voice a little stiff.

Targeter inclines her head. "And I you. As I understand, you'll be undercover as an Imperial inspector, yes?"

Cassian nods. "And what will you be doing?"

"I'm going undercover as a student transfer," Targeter replies. "I'll be going in two days before you arrive."

Cassian frowns. "A transfer would have the knowledge from the previous academy they attended. Have you attended an Imperial Academy?"

"You don't need to worry about my cover, Agent Fulcrum." Targeter is just barely smirking. She looks a bit older when she does that, but Cassian still can't think that's she's much older than sixteen, if that. "I'll manage. We'll need to make sure we arrange a way to meet when you arrive without raising undue suspicion."

"I think an Imperial inspector is able to do pretty much anything they want," Cassian replies. He carefully drops his Festian accent and adds, "I do my investigations with the backing of the Emperor himself. It would be in everyone's best interests not to cross me."

"Of course not, sir," Targeter replies, her accent suddenly pure Coruscant - or, as they call it now, Imperial Center. Cassian wonders if she actually intends to use that accent during the assignment or if she's just showing off. If it's the former, well, he's going to be speaking with a false accent too, but if it's the latter, that's a bad sign. He doesn't want a young show-off as his partner on this mission.

Targeter looks at Cassian again. "Are you worried about my age, Agent Fulcrum?" she asks, the assumed accent gone.

"Age doesn't necessarily matter when it comes to being a good agent," Cassian replies automatically.

Even though Cassian's fairly certain Targeter suspects his doubts, she doesn't look offended. Instead, there's a knowing look on her face with a hint of smugness to it. She thinks she's going to be able to meet his standards despite her youth, Cassian can tell. He just hopes that she actually can.

"I'm sixteen, in case you were wondering," she says. "But I wouldn't have been assigned to this mission if both I and our superiors didn't think I could handle it."

"I'm sure we'll work well together," Cassian replies, his voice a little stiff. "General, do you have any further information for us?"

Draven looks a little less expressionless than usual, with perhaps something like amusement on his face as he hands Cassian and Targeter datapads. Cassian can't be certain that it's amusement, however, considering he doesn't think he's ever seen that expression on Draven's face before.

"Here are the details for your covers. Memorize them the best you can. Maybe you two can work together on them."

"Do you want to work together?" Targeter asks Cassian.

"Do you think it'll help?"

A small, secretive smile curls across Targeter's face. "I don't think I'll need it, but it's always a good idea to practice."

Cassian knows that Targeter is apparently a good agent despite her age, but she's still seven years younger than him. He doesn't really like the idea of taking advice from a sixteen year old, no matter how good she is. "I think I'll be alright."

"Suit yourself," Targeter replies. "I'll be going in the day after tomorrow, yes?"

Draven nods. "Is that enough time to memorize your cover details?"

Targeter smiles the same secretive smile again. "I think so, but I'd like to get started as soon as possible."

"Dismissed, then," Draven replies, and Targeter snaps a picture-perfect salute before she leaves.

"She's a child," Cassian says, because no matter what Targeter says, he still can't quite get over the fact that he's supposed to be working on a sensitive mission with a sixteen year old.

"She's your parter on this mission no matter how old she is," Draven replies. "You're dismissed too, Andor. Start looking over your cover."

Cassian salutes, being careful to make sure that his is just as good as Targeter's was, and leaves the briefing room. He powers up the datapad on the way and starts looking over the information. He'll go over it with K-2SO once he's read it a few times, and then he'll be ready in time to arrive at the academy in four days.

He just hopes Targeter is ready as well.

* * *

Imperial uniforms are, without exception, horribly uncomfortable. Winter, however, has worn far less comfortable clothes as the Second Daughter of Alderaan, so she's practiced at not fidgeting regardless of how much her clothing itches. A bit of her hair falls around her face and she tucks it behind her ear. It's still a little disconcerting to see black hair instead of her natural white, but it's far less noticeable. With white hair, she's distinctive, but there are half a dozen other students with ink-black hair in her new academy class, so she blends in fairly well.

"Corinna Elysar?" a voice states. Winter steps forward without hesitation. Her perfect memory is always helpful when it comes to going undercover. She can remember every detail of her fabricated backstory, just as it was written on the datapad.

"The Imperial inspector is ready for you now," the protocol droid assigned to aid the supposed inspector adds. Winter leaves the line of fellow students and enters the office, her posture ramrod straight and her hands clasped behind her back.

Agent Fulcrum is sitting at the desk, wearing his own Imperial uniform that looks about as comfortable as Winter's. "Cadet Elysar," he says, his voice just on the edge of a drawl. "Sit."

Winter sits obediently in the chair in front of the desk. "Is something wrong, sir?" she asks, her Coruscanti accent crisp. She hopes Fulcrum can read her underlying message: _Is everything going according to plan so far?_

"That has yet to be determined," Fulcrum replies, which Winter takes as a tentatively positive answer. "I am here by order of the Emperor to investigate this academy. I understand you transferred here recently?"

"I transferred two days ago," Winter replies.

Fulcrum purses his lips and drums his fingers on the table. At first, Winter tries to decipher any sort of message out of the rhythmic tapping, but if Fulcrum is using a code, it's not one she knows. "From where did you transfer, cadet?"

"The academy on the Imperial Center, sir."

"Hmm. What is your opinion on this academy thus far?" Translation: _Have you found anything interesting?_

"It seems quite similar to my last one, sir." Translation: _Not yet._

Fulcrum's eyes narrow. "I might need to speak with you again," he tells her, which Winter knows perfectly well. She nods, the picture of a subservient underling.

"I've seen your test scores, by the way," Fulcrum adds. "They're very impressive."

"Thank you, sir," Winter replies. She knows the exact numbers for her falsified test scores, of course, and they are impressive. They'd hoped that her position as a newcomer, especially one with exceptional test scores, would make it more natural for Fulcrum, in his guise of an Imperial inspector, to spend time with her. A cadet like her would make an ideal informant for an inspector like him.

Fulcrum holds out his hand and Winter takes it without hesitation, shaking it and discreetly palming the comlink that Fulcrum's holding. She closes her fingers over it quickly enough that no one else notices, and she flickers her eyes up and down in lieu of a nod. It's a common enough tactic for intelligence agents, and Fulcrum seems to understand. Winter clasps her hands behind her back, the comlink hidden between them.

"Best of luck with your classes, Cadet Elysar," Fulcrum says in a clear dismissal. Winter bows her head respectfully and leaves the office, returning to the line of cadets outside. She was close to the end of the list, so it doesn't take long before Fulcrum makes his way through the rest of the cadets. When he finishes, they're all dismissed back to their rooms.

Winter keeps her fingers around the comlink until she claims the fresher in the dorm room under the guise of taking a shower. She turns on the sonic shower the second she enters and finally uncurls her fingers around the comlink. It's text based and thin enough that she can hide it easily. There's one message waiting on it, in a code that Winter can decipher easily.

 _It's untraceable, but be careful. We'll exchange daily updates. Don't send unnecessary messages._

Winter doesn't reply, judging anything of the sort to be an unnecessary message. She's hoping to get some information at dinner, and then she can send an update before going to bed. She strips quickly and steps into the shower, cleans up as fast as she can, and then she gets redressed and leaves the fresher, the comlink tucked into her brassiere.

"Corinna, what did you think of Inspector Aldrecht?" one of Winter's roommates, a girl name by the name of Kyra, asks.

"He seems efficient," Winter replies as she sits on the bed.

Bri, another roommate, giggles. "No, we're talking about how _cute_ he is!"

"I didn't find him cute," Rhylla, the fourth and final of Winter's roommates, remarks.

"Yeah, but you've got a crush on Jalaila, so your preferences are clearly different," Bri counters.

Rhylla shrugs. "She _is_ cute. Can you blame me?"

"I suppose Inspector Aldrecht is attractive," Winter says dubiously.

Kyra rolls her eyes. "We should have known you wouldn't have noticed."

"You can focus on things that aren't protocol, you know," Bri adds.

"I want to make the Empire proud," Winter replies.

"I want to make Inspector Aldrecht proud," Kyra counters, and she and Bri giggle madly.

Winter wonders what her roommates will think if Fulcrum starts calling on her more often. She just hopes none of them spread rumors about it. Kyra is a horrible gossip, something years of Imperial academies apparently haven't trained out of her yet. The whole academy thinking that Winter and Fulcrum are having an affair probably won't have an impact on the mission, but it's a complication Winter would prefer to avoid.

"If you're done talking about Inspector Aldrecht, dinner is in five minutes," Rhylla informs them. "We should go."

"It's not like the food is even good," Bri whines, but she and Kyra follow Rhylla out of the room. Winter brings up the rear, wondering if there's any way she can discreetly bring up the topic of the missing students at dinner. She knows Fulcrum is likely to have more information than her, but she's hoping that she can at least have something to tell him, other than the fact that two of her roommates apparently think he's attractive.

The perfect opportunity comes halfway through dinner, when Bri looks around and frowns. "I don't see Bennar anywhere."

"Maybe he's not feeling well," Kyra offers, but she doesn't sound particularly convincing.

"Or he's gone, like the others," Rhylla mutters bitterly.

"The others?" Winter asks, trying to sound puzzled without showing her eagerness to hear the answer.

Kyra looks uncomfortable. "We're not supposed to talk about it."

Considering how Kyra normally loves to talk, Winter's curiosity is only more piqued. Still, she can't pry too much without putting up red flags. "Are they just switching to a different path?" she asks, taking a bite of her food and pretending that she's not desperately hoping for an answer. "Students did that at my old academy as well."

"If they are, no one's telling us about it," Rhylla replies. "Almost a dozen students have disappeared recently, no word on where they are now."

Bri wrings her hands. "Rhylla, we're not supposed to-"

"What, and leave Corinna the only person here who doesn't know?" Rhylla retorts. "A lot of the kids were top students. She should be careful."

Winter blinks. The Rebellion hadn't known that. It might complicate things. Her performance can't drastically drop without prompting questions she doesn't want to answer, but if whatever's taking students is taking the ones at the top, Winter might be in danger.

Then again, if she _does_ get taken, it might give her more information than she would have expected to get otherwise.

"I don't want to get you in trouble," she tells Rhylla. "If someone hears-"

"Fine." Rhylla shoves a mouthful of food into her mouth. "I'll play by the rules, like you want me to."

Winter knows that, although it's not officially a part of the mission, it would be good if she could recruit some future double agents. Rhylla seems like she might have potential for that.

"Thank you for warning me, though."

Rhylla looks begrudgingly pleased. "No problem."

Kyra and Bri quickly steer the conversation into safer waters. Winter is quiet, turning around the new information in her head. It's not much, but even just the hint of a link between the students might be enough for them to figure out what's going on. Still, there must be more to it than just top students. The previous undercover agent at the academy, as far as Winter knows, was supposed to just be an average student. If they were only taking the best, they wouldn't have taken him.

So there has to be more to it, but what?

When they finish eating, the girls go back to their dormitory. The easy teasing about Fulcrum's attractiveness is gone, the strain of dinner not yet dissipated. Winter thinks of what she's going to say in her report to Fulcrum. She wants to type it out as quickly as possible, so she needs to have idea of what she's going to say before she gets the comlink out. She's not going to mention that her roommates find Fulcrum attractive, but she needs to report on the fact that many of the missing students were at the top of their class, that there's a new one missing named Bennar, and that one of her roommates thinks she might be at risk. She doesn't particularly like the idea of admitting that she might be in danger, but she's not going to leave it out and risk endangering the mission because of her pride. She's not a child, despite her youth. If she wants Fulcrum to believe that, she needs to act like an adult.

When it's Winter's turn to use the fresher, she pulls out the comlink and types out her quick message: _Almost 12 students missing, no one knows where they are, student named Bennar potentially missing as of dinner, many of the missing were at the top of their class, roommate believes I might be in danger of being taken._ She sends it quickly and tucks the comlink back into her brassiere after a minute with no response, then strips out of her uniform and into the shapeless sleepwear that all cadets have to wear. She hopes no one notices that she's still wearing her brassiere underneath. She would take it off, but it's the best place to hide the comlink, and she doesn't want to risk it just for the sake of being a bit more comfortable.

She goes into bed quickly, pulling the covers up to her neck. Hopefully, Fulcrum will send her an update, but she won't be able to check the comlink again until the morning. Anything else will be too risky.

Turning off her mind enough to fall asleep is difficult, but Winter has acquired somewhat of a talent for it. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and within a few seconds, she's fallen asleep.

* * *

Cassian eats dinner with the head of the academy, hates every second of it, and retreats to his room the second he can politely do so. He checks his comlink to see if Targeter has given him her report yet and finds a message waiting.

 _Almost 12 students missing, no one knows where they are, student named Bennar potentially missing as of dinner, many of the missing were at the top of their class, roommate believes I might be in danger of being taken._

It is, irritatingly, more concrete information than Cassian has been able to find. He has some suspicions, and he has class lists to look over, but Targeter has somehow gotten her hands on numbers and a name and a potential thread linking the missing students together. She really _is_ good.

The last bit of the message worries him, however. They've already lost one agent to the disappearances at the academy - although, if the others were all at the top of their class, then perhaps their previous agent was taken for other reasons - and Cassian doesn't want to lose another one. Extracting Targeter before their planned extraction time will be too suspicious, however, and if her performance starts to worsen, it might add trouble they don't have time to deal with.

But Cassian is the adult here - because no matter how competent Targeter is, she's still sixteen - so he needs to come up with a way to protect her. He frowns down at the comlink in his hand and finally types out a response.

 _Good intel. I have some suspicions, but nothing concrete. Be careful. Don't be at the very top of the class. I'll start showing interest in you so they can't snatch you away easily. If they try to take you, break cover if you have to. Do not let yourself be taken, no matter what._

It's risky advice. Draven probably wouldn't agree with it, and Cassian knows it's not the most practical solution. But he's not going to tell Targeter to just let herself be taken. This mission isn't important enough for the Rebellion to lose two agents over it. They've lost one, Cassian's not going to let them lose another. He's had to make that call before, and it's always a difficult one. Cassian has a lot of deaths on his conscience. If possible, he'd rather not add Targeter's.

He sighs and pulls out the class lists. He pours over them all night, trying to come up with a list of names. He comes up with fourteen former students that are no longer at the academy, but Targeter said that less than twelve were missing, so some of the names must be regular transfers. He'll look into that when he's not quite as exhausted.

A ninety minute nap and four cups of caf later, Cassian dresses in his uniform and strides out of his room. He was invited to watch a lesson, and since he knew that Targeter will be attending that lesson, he agreed. The underling who comes to fetch him is stammering and almost struck dumb in the presence of someone as important as an Imperial investigator, so Cassian doesn't get any useful information from him. The head of the academy, whom he meets at the lesson area, is a different story altogether.

"Ah, Inspector Aldrecht." The woman, as always, looks almost disgustingly eager to please. It takes Cassian a second to remember her name: Ora Namore. "I trust you had a pleasant evening last night."

"I am not here for pleasantries, Headmistress Namore," Cassian replies in the haughtiest voice he can muster. "I understand I am to watch the Year Four classes today."

"Yes, Inspector," Namore replies. "Right this way, sir."

The Year Four students, including Targeter, are lined up and ready. Their teacher yells something at them, and then the students dive into motion. It's a sort of obstacle course, and even though he should be watching everyone, Cassian's eyes keep drawing back to Targeter.

To be fair, he's not the only one. She's ahead of the rest of the class, moving with a grace that the others seem to lack. Cassian wonders what else she does, other than working as a rebel spy. She moves like a dancer, and Cassian isn't at all surprised when she finishes the obstacle course first.

He's not thrilled either, though, considering he _told_ Targeter not to be at the very top of her class. This is definitely being at the very top of the class. Still, it makes it easier for Cassian to point her out, which he supposes might have been her goal in the first place.

"That's Cadet Elysar, yes?" he asks. "The transfer from the Imperial Center?"

"Yes," Namore replies, nodding. "She's very good. Her test scores were very impressive. We only take the best here, of course."

Cassian allows himself to pass a lingering glance over the other students, a few of whom are visibly struggling. "I see."

Namore flushes. "Well, we-"

"I'd like to talk with Cadet Elysar again," Cassian announces. "I think she might be a valuable resource."

"Of course," Namore replies. The extent to which she's tripping over herself to do whatever he asks is almost sickening. "I can get her now, if you'd like!"

"If you would," Cassian replies. Namore scurries off quickly. She says something quickly to Targeter, then the two of them return.

Targeter snaps to attention and salutes sharply. "Sir, I was told you wished to speak to me?"

"Cadet Elysar." Cassian nods once. "You seem very adept at the training here."

"I do my best, sir."

"What do you intend on doing after you finish your time at the academy?"

Targeter blinks once, but recovers quickly. "I've considered going into the Imperial Navy, sir, but I've also thought about being an inspector."

"Hmm." It's the right thing to say. Now Cassian's excuse for spending time with her is all the better. It wouldn't be too out-of-place for him to take on a temporary protégé, and it would allow him to spend much more time with Targeter. "I think you would make a good inspector."

Targeter's eyes go wide. "You do, sir?"

"It's not an easy job," Cassian warns. "But perhaps I could show you the ropes. You could help me with this inspection."

"Really, sir?" Targeter looks thrilled, but she quickly covers the expression. "Would it be allowed?"

Cassian looks at Namore, whose back goes ramrod straight in an instant. "I'm sure it could be managed."

"Of course," Namore replies, nodding. "We always want our students to have the best experiences, and working with an Imperial inspector would be a great experience for-"

"It's settled, then," Cassian interrupts. "Come with me, Cadet Elysar."

"Now?" Namore blurts out.

Cassian gives her a dirty look. "Yes, now. Unless you have a problem with that?"

"Of course not!" Namore shakes her head. "Go ahead, sir. I'll inform Cadet Elysar's instructors of the change in her schedule."

"Good." Cassian beckons to Targeter. "With me, Cadet."

Targeter falls into place a few steps behind him. "With _me_ ," Cassian repeats, pointing next to him.

Targeter frowns. "But sir, protocol-"

"For star's sake, Cadet, just get up here."

Targeter meekly steps forward. Cassian thinks he sees a flicker of amusement in her eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it came.

"Yes, sir."

"I've been looking over class records," he announces. "I want you to look over them with me. See if you can find anything that stands out, anything at all."

"Yes, sir."

Cassian leads them to his quarters and lets Targeter in. She walks in and stands at attention near his desk. Cassian closes the door behind him. He gestures for Targeter to sit at the table and she does. He brings the datapads to the desk and gives Targeter the stack he's already looked at.

"I've looked over these, but I'd like a second opinion. Tell me if you see anything at all suspicious."

"Of course, sir," Targeter replies. She picks up a datapad obediently, looking at it studiously. Cassian waits until they've each begun looking at their datapads to put a hand in his pocket and surreptitiously press the button inside. After a few seconds of waiting, it emits a quiet beep.

"The surveillance systems are disabled," Cassian says in a low voice. "It should look like a glitch, and it'll affect the whole wing. They shouldn't be able to trace it back to us."

"I'm not going to break cover if they try to take me," Targeter says in response, calmly setting the datapad down next to her.

"Excuse me?"

"If they try to take me, I'm going to go." Targeter folds her hands together. "It makes sense. I can see what they're doing, and I'll have a way to be in contact with you. And I'm certain we'll be able to figure out an extraction if we have to."

"This mission is not important enough to take those sorts of risks."

Targeter shrugs. "I think it is. Something is happening here, and I don't think it can be good. Why would the Empire be taking away their best students? Whatever they're planning, I don't think we're going to like it very much."

Cassian scowls. He and Targeter are the same rank, technically, and neither of them is in charge on this mission. Cassian is regretting that. He wants to order Targeter not to do something that stupid, but he doesn't think she'll take that very well.

"Hopefully, it won't come to that," he finally settles on. "Have you found out anything else today?"

"Nothing of interest," Targeter replies, shaking her head. A slight smile on her face, she adds, "Two of my roommates think you're attractive, though. They're very jealous that I get to work with you."

Cassian blinks. "Um."

"I don't think it'll be very helpful for the mission." Targeter's smirk makes it clear that she finds Cassian's distress very amusing. "But I thought you ought to know, just in case."

"I don't-" Cassian shakes his head. "Any _helpful_ intel?"

"No," Targeter replies, shaking her head. "You?"

Cassian gestures at the datapads. "I've got a list of fourteen students who are no longer at this academy, but you said that there were less than twelve who disappeared."

"Rhylla said it was almost a dozen," Targeter agrees. "She said they disappeared recently. I'd guess she probably means within the past few months. How many disappearances were that recent?"

Cassian frowns down at the datapads. "Eleven, I think."

"So almost a dozen. Were there any common threads among the missing students?"

"Well, other than the previous agent we sent in, they were all at the top of the class."

Targeter frowns. "Do you think the previous agent was found out?"

"It's possible," Cassian replies. "But if they were, I would think the Empire would make an example of them. Our agent just disappeared. That's not what usually happens."

Targeter doesn't look entirely convinced, and there's still an unhappy twist to her mouth, but she nods. "You're right. It's not the way the Empire usually works."

"In case our predecessor was found out, though, we have to be extra careful," Cassian adds. "No unnecessary risks."

"I wasn't planning on taking any," Targeter replies. Cassian bites back his remark about her refusal to break cover if she's taken. "I have a family I want to get back to."

Cassian blinks. He didn't expect Targeter to have a family. He assumed she was an orphan, like himself. Most young Rebellion recruits are. "We'll get you back to them," Cassian says, even though he had no way of being sure that they can.

Targeter smiles slightly, although it doesn't reach her eyes. "We'll do our best, and if I don't come home, they'll know I died for a good cause."

Cassian presses his lips together. "Be careful."

"I will be," Targeter promises, and Cassian is fairly certain he can believe her.

* * *

Winter's roommates are predictably excited when she comes back from her meeting with Fulcrum. "Oh my _stars_ , Corinna, how are you so lucky?" Bri cries, grabbing her hands and pulling her to the bed. "You get to work with Inspector Aldrecht!"

"He just wants my help because I'm a recent transfer," Winter demurs, pulling her hands out of Bri's. "He thinks I might be able to notice things that are odd, since I just came from another academy."

"Yes, but you get to _work with Inspector Aldrecht_ ," Kyra says, her voice laden with meaning. "What's he like?"

"Is he still that cute up close?" Bri demands.

"What did you do?" Kyra cries.

"Probably the same boring stuff she would have done if it were any other inspector here," Rhylla grumbles. "It's not that amazing."

"But he's so _cute_!" Bri protests.

"I'm working with him professionally," Winter states firmly. "Anyway, he's much older than us-"

"He doesn't look _that_ much older than us," Kyra counters. "Probably less than ten years."

"We're _sixteen_ ," Rhylla says, sounding somewhat scandalized. "He's got to be at _least_ in his mid-twenties-"

"That's not that big a difference," Kyra protests.

"Regardless of how old he is, I'm working with him as a colleague and an aide, nothing more," Winter says. "I want to be an inspector myself, once I graduate from the academy. I think that's why he's letting me work with him."

"Hmm, I might want to be an inspector too, in that case," Bri croons. Kyra giggles.

"They're impossible," Rhylla groans. "Ignore them, Corinna."

Winter offers Rhylla a small smile. "Thanks."

"But if anything juicy _does_ happen, tell us," Kyra demands.

"I'm certain nothing 'juicy' will happen," Winter says. "What did I miss in lessons today?"

"Nothing important," Bri dismisses. "Anyway, you're the top of the class, you'll get it all down in a second."

"I"m surprised the Imperial Center gave you up," Rhylla remarks. It's an innocent enough statement, but something about the way she says it makes Winter's warning bells give a little chime. "Normally, academies don't like to give up their top students."

Winter shrugs. "I requested the move, and they allowed it."

"I don't know why you would want to leave the Imperial Center, though," Kyra says, lying down on her stomach and kicking her legs up above her. "It's so nice. I've only been once."

"It's less nice when you live there," Winter replies. She doesn't live on the Imperial Center, but she goes there often enough with Leia and Bail to be able to fake it. "I wanted to go somewhere that wasn't a city."

"If I lived on the Imperial Center, I'd never leave," Bri announces.

"It's not that great," Rhylla scoffs.

Bri scoffs. "Your priorities are weird, Rhylla. I'm not surprised you don't get it."

Rhylla flushes angrily. "Just because I don't fawn over the new inspector-"

"Rhylla, could you give me the details on what I missed today?" Winter cuts in. "I don't want to fall behind."

Rhylla still looks angry, but she deliberately turns away from Bri and faces Winter. "Sure. Come on, I'll let you read over my notes from the lecture."

"Thanks," Winter replies, leaving Bri and Kyra to gossip. She's hoping that she can get Rhylla on her side, for a whole multitude of reasons. It'll be good to have support at the academy, and if she thinks Rhylla is really trustworthy, Winter might even be able to turn her into a new Rebel recruit or, even better, a double agent. She's not counting on it, but it would be nice.

"Don't let them bother you," Winter says quietly, once she and Rhylla are out of earshot. "You're right, Imperial Center isn't all that great."

Rhylla's smile is strained, but the fact that she's trying to smile at all is a good sign. "It's not just that, but thanks for trying."

Winter allows her lips to quirk into a small smile. "I don't think Inspector Aldrecht is all that attractive either," she admits. "But Jalaila is cute."

Rhylla looks at Winter in surprise, then she starts smiling tentatively. "You really think so?"

Winter shrugs. "I like girls just as much as I like boys, and I like Jalaila." None of that is a lie. Winter would prefer not to lie to Rhylla more than she has to. She has to keep some things back, of course, but the more truthful she is, the better it'll be in the long run. If she wants to try and recruit Rhylla, her truthfulness might come in handy.

"I don't really like boys at all," Rhylla admits. "But Bri and Kyra just talk about them all the time. And Yvana would join in too, before she-"

"Before she what?" Winter prompts gently when Rhylla doesn't continue.

"She's one of the ones who disappeared," Rhylla says quietly. "We're not supposed to talk about it. I think it's stupid, but…"

"Don't get in trouble on my account," Winter says quickly, although she tucks the information away to tell Fulcrum later. "Let's just look over the notes, shall we? Then maybe you can tell me if there are any other cute girls here. I haven't noticed that many boys that catch my interest."

Rhylla grins. "Sounds good to me."

They look over the notes fairly quickly, but dinner comes before they can chat about girls. Winter makes eye contact with Fulcrum for a moment, when he enters the dining hall. He nods in acknowledgement and then proceeds to ignore her for the rest of dinner, at least by all outward appearances. Winter does the same.

Later, she'll wonder if she could have done anything differently to change what happens next. But it's already too late, not that Winter knows it, and there's nothing she could have done.

"Cadet Elysar," Namore calls when Winter is leaving the dining hall. "Might I have a word?"

Rhylla looks at Winter in surprise. "Do you know why she wants to talk to you?"

"No," Winter replies, frowning. "I hope it's nothing bad."

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

Winter shakes her head. "I'm alright. Thank you for the offer."

Rhylla heads back to the dorm, leaving Winter and Namore alone. "Is something wrong, ma'am?" Winter asks respectfully.

Namore studies her for a long moment. "There was a discrepancy in your transfer files," she finally says. "I didn't think much of it. It's a common enough error, and everything else was right."

"I apologize for the error," Winter replies, her heart starting to pound. "Is there anything you need me to do-"

"But after the inspector asked to work with you, I thought I should look over your files again," Namore continues. "There was only the one discrepancy, true, but I contacted the academy on the Imperial Center to inform them of it."

Winter goes cold.

"There was no Corinna Elysar at that academy," Namore says. "There has never been a Corinna Elysar at that academy. You are not who you say you are."

Winter wishes she had a blaster on her, even just a little holdout one, but it would have been too risky. She has the comlink for Fulcrum, but she can't get to it easily, and certainly not without Namore noticing.

But her cover is already blown, and the situation doesn't seem likely to get any better than it currently is, so Winter turns and sprints towards the doors, pulling the comlink out from under her uniform as she does.

She doesn't make it.

Pain explodes in her side as a blaster bolt hits her. Winter staggers forward, crying out in pain. She manages to stay upright through sheer force of will alone, but she knows she's lost. She sends Fulcrum a quick _Namore knows_ before she crushes the comlink in her fist. Then she turns to face Namore, who is standing across the hall with a blaster in her hand.

"Go ahead. Kill me," Winter scoffs, trying to sound brave. "There are more people like me out there. More people defect to my side every day. There's no way you can win."

Namore's lips are twisted into a scowl. She raises the blaster again, aiming at Winter's head.

 _I'm sorry, Leia. I'm sorry, Mother and Father. May the Force be with you, even if I'm not._

"Any last words?"

"Long live the Rebellion."


	2. Chapter 2

Cassian is halfway to his room when he realizes he forgot his cap in the dining hall. He turns back, ignoring the glances he gets from a few other people, and goes back to the dining hall. He sees the girl Targeter was sitting with, although Targeter isn't with her. He wonders absently where she is, but it doesn't seem to be cause for concern yet.

When he hears the muffled noise of a blaster discharging, sounding like it's coming from the dining hall, he thinks _that_ might be cause for concern. When his secret comlink buzzes, his worry increases. Normally, he wouldn't check it in a hallway, but there's no one else there, and he has a bad feeling.

The two-word message tells him he was right to.

 _Namore knows._

Cassian breaks into a run.

"Any last words?" he hears Namore ask as he gets closer to the dining hall. He pulls out the secret holdout blaster that's hidden away under his belt.

"Long live the Rebellion," Targeter replies, her voice defiant, and Cassian raises his blaster and bursts into the room, firing at Namore immediately. His shot hits her between the eyes and she drops.

Targeter turns quickly, one hand clamped to her side. "Fulcrum," she whispers, then her knees give out and she starts to crumple forward. Cassian gets to her just in time to keep her from falling onto the floor.

"There was a discrepancy with the paperwork," Targeter murmurs, her voice a little hazy. Cassian wonders how badly she's hurt. "She contacted the academy on the Imperial Center to ask them about it and they told her I wasn't a real transfer student. I don't know if your cover was blown too, but-"

"We need to get out of here," Cassian interrupts. "Can you walk?"

Targeter presses her lips together and nods. "I think so." She doesn't move her hand away from her side, but she manages to get her feet under her and take a few steps. "I won't be very fast," she says worriedly. "You should go ahead without me."

"I'm not leaving you behind," Cassian replies, wrapping an arm around her waist. Targeter gasps in pain when his hand slides into place over hers, so he grips her higher instead. She slings an arm over his shoulder and leans on him heavily as they exit through the kitchens.

"They'll lock down the whole city," Targeter pants. They're not going very fast, but it's clearly almost too much for her already. "And they'll alert the Empire and call for stormtroopers. We can't get out of here fast enough to avoid that with me slowing us down. You should go ahead, I'll do my best to head them off."

"I'm not leaving you behind," Cassian repeats. If he absolutely has to, they both know he will, but until it comes to that, he's sticking with Targeter.

Targeter scowls. "I'd rather one of us get back than neither."

"We need to have hope," Cassian replies. "Rebellions are built on hope."

Targeter looks at Cassian for a moment. "Rebellions are built on hope," she repeats in a thoughtful tone. "I like that."

"And we need to have hope that we're getting out of here," Cassian adds. "That's the exit." Close to them is the gate of the academy compound. It's guarded by two officers, and although Cassian is fairly certain he can take both of them, he doesn't think he can do it before they manage to set off the alarm, assuming it hasn't already been done.

"Will your credentials still work?" Targeter asks. "Can you use them to get us out? I don't think your cover was blown."

"We can try. But if they see you, they'll know something is wrong."

Targeter takes a deep breath and straightens. Her hand is still clamped over her side, but she crosses her other arm over her torso as well to make it look more natural. She's a little pale, but it's dark enough that it's difficult to tell. Cassian can still see hints of pain in her eyes, but by all other outward appearances, she looks fine.

"Be fast."

Cassian leaves Targeter lingering behind him and goes up to the gate. "I need a speeder," he announces imperiously when he reaches the officers.

The two of them look at each other. "Um…"

"I am Inspector Aldrecht, here by order of the Emperor," Cassian drawls. He looks each of the officers in the eye. "My assistant and I require a speeder. Are you going to impede our work?"

"No, of course not, sir," one of the officers immediately says. "I'll go get you a speeder right now. It'll just be a minute, sir."

"Good," Cassian says. The officer scurries off quickly. "You, open the gate," Cassian commands the other one, who quickly does as he asks.

The first officer comes back with a speeder a moment later. "This is our best model," he says. "Um, do you know when you'll be back, sir?"

"I do not believe that is any of your business," Cassian replies sharply. Targeter climbs into the speeder, her movements a little too jerky to be natural. Cassian hopes it's not noticeable. "Goodnight, officers."

They're out of the gate and so close to getting away when the alarm starts blaring at the academy. Out of the corner of his eye, Cassian sees one of the officers talking into a comlink. He looks panicked, then he pulls out his blaster.

The first shot goes wide. Targeter ducks, her eyes wide. Cassian tosses her his blaster. "Return fire. I'll get us out of here."

Targeter does as she's told, even though twisting around like she's doing must be hell on whatever wound she has. Cassian thinks they're going to get out when one of the shots gets lucky and hits the engine of the speeder. He listens to the sudden whine and figures they probably have about a minute before the engine dies altogether.

"Hold on," he tells Targeter, then he pushes the speeder to top speed. It'll drain the fuel quickly, but they don't have to worry about that, considering the immanent engine failure.

They get out of range before the engine splutters to a stop. "Come on," Cassian tells Targeter, hopping out of the speeder. He gives her a hand, takes his blaster back, and leads her into an alleyway.

"We can't stay here," Targeter says, but her skin is too pale and clammy and she's breathing too fast. Cassian knows the signs of shock when he sees them.

"I need to see your side. Move your hand."

Targeter blinks at him slowly, then she moves her hand away from her side. Cassian looks at it in the dull streetlight and swears under his breath. The blast hit her on the far side of her back, leaving horrible burns all up and down the side of her torso. It requires medical attention, as soon as possible.

"How much pain are you in?" he asks, wondering how much longer Targeter can keep going. He really doesn't want to have to leave her.

They both know that, if he does, she knows too much about the Rebellion to allow the Empire to capture her alive, and Cassian _really_ doesn't want to shoot her.

"I can manage," Targeter replies. "At least it's not bleeding. I got stabbed by a vibroblade once, and there was blood everywhere. This isn't too bad in comparison."

Cassian pulls out his comlink and sends a message to the extraction team. He's not sure they'll be able to get them out in time, but it's worth a try.

"We should keep going," he says softly, as much as he hates to do this. "Targeter, we need to keep going."

"Winter," she corrects softly. "My name. It's Winter Retrac."

Cassian blinks down at her. She looks very young.

"Cassian Andor."

Winter manages to scrape up a smile from somewhere. "Nice to meet you, Cassian Andor."

Cassian wraps an arm around her ribs, careful to keep his hand above the worst of the damage. Winter slings an arm around his shoulders. "Nice to meet you too, Winter Retrac."

* * *

When Winter sees the stormtrooper notice them, she's fairly certain their streak of luck has run out. "Fulcrum," she whispers, nudging him gently. She's still draped over him to keep herself upright, but they're doing their best to make it look like the two of them are out on a romantic outing. Cassian wasn't fond of the idea, but it's their best option. The top buttons of his uniform are undone and her hair is falling around her shoulders to make them look simultaneously more casual and less recognizable. Judging by the way the stormtrooper keeps eyeing them, that doesn't seem to be working.

"Damn," Cassian mutters, seeing the stormtrooper immediately. "I'll deal with it-"

"He's coming over here," Winter interrupts urgently. "You should run."

"I won't be able to run fast enough to get away," Cassian counters, shaking his head. "We'll have to try to talk our way out of this. If worst comes to worst, I can shoot him, but I'd rather not attract more attention than necessary."

Winter narrows her eyes at the stormtrooper. Something seems off about him, something about the way he's walking, perhaps? It's not the gait same as a normal stormtrooper. And Winter can see something on his helmet, perhaps a smudge…?

And then he gets a little closer, and she sees that the smudge is really a tiny picture of a phoenix, and relief washes over her like a wave.

"It's the extraction team," she whispers. "It's the Phoenix Squadron."

The relief on Cassian's face looks about as strong as Winter's feels. "Thank the Force."

The stormtrooper comes up to them, stopping a few steps in front of them. "Excuse me, but I'll need you two to come with me."

"And where are we going, officer?" Cassian asks.

"To the moons of Lothal," the trooper replies, and Winter breathes out a silent sigh of relief at the code phrase.

"Carry on, then," Cassian replies, and they follow the trooper to a small Imperial shuttle. Inside is another trooper, much shorter than the one who met them.

"These are the spies?" the shorter trooper asks, and Winter's surprised to hear that he sounds about as young as she does. He takes off his helmet when the first stormtrooper closes the hatch, and Winter can see that he's probably about her age with blue hair and eyes.

"Agents Fulcrum and Targeter," the taller trooper replies, taking off his helmet as well. He's got a goatee and dark hair in a small ponytail and looks to be at least five years older than Cassian. "Get them settled while I get us out of here."

"Fulcrum?" the boy repeats, looking at Winter and Cassian in shock.

"There's more than one Fulcrum agent, Ezra," the man replies dryly. "Now, everyone should get buckled in. This might not be the smoothest ride."

"Do you have medical supplies?" Cassian asks as he sits down. Winter sits next to him and leans gingerly against his shoulder, since she doesn't think her back would appreciate her leaning against the ship. "Agent Targeter was shot."

"We've got some stuff back on the Ghost," the boy replies, sitting across from them. "Ezra Bridger, by the way. And that's Kanan."

"The Jedi," Winter says, nodding. She'd thought it might be, based on the description that Leia gave her after she got back from Lothal. "And you're his apprentice?"

"Yup," Ezra replies. "The rest of the crew is on the Ghost. You'll meet them soon."

Leia described Ezra as charming, and Winter can see why. He certainly seems nice enough. Kanan, Leia described as "stoic but kind." Even though he's barely spoken with them, Winter thinks she's right.

The comm crackles to life as they fly up into the atmosphere. There's a huge Star Destroyer up there, and Winter hopes Kanan has a plan for how to get them past it.

 _"Incoming shuttle, please turn around and return to the planet. The planet is currently on lockdown and no ships are allowed to leave the atmosphere."_

"Here goes nothing," Kanan mutters as he turns on the comm. To the Star Destroyer, he says, "We are on an important, time-sensitive mission and have been given permission to leave the planet."

Winter can practically hear the frown on the official's face when he replies. _"Do you have proof of this permission?"_

"Transmitting it now," Kanan replies, pressing a button. He looks over at Ezra. "This had better work."

"It will!" Ezra protests. "I'm eighty percent sure it will."

"Eighty?" Kanan repeats incredulously.

Ezra looks sheepish. "Maybe eighty-five?"

"Ezra…"

 _"This seems to be in order,"_ the official on the Star Destroyer replies, and Winter can feel everyone on the shuttle heave a sigh of relief. _"You may go on your way."_

"Thank you, sir," Kanan replies, and he navigates the shuttle past the Star Destroyer. The second they're clear, he punches the hyperdrive and the ship goes rocketing off.

"Told you it would be fine," Ezra mutters.

"You told me you were _eighty percent sure_ it would be fine," Kanan retorts.

"Eighty-five," Ezra protests under his breath.

"Are you alright?" Cassian asks Winter softly as Kanan and Ezra continue to bicker good-naturedly.

"I'll be fine," Winter replies, ignoring the fact that her side is burning more now than it was before. She knows it's the adrenaline rush wearing off, probably combined with all of the moving around she's been doing. Once she gets the wound treated, she'll be fine. At least it's not bleeding; dealing with blood loss would just have made this horrible situation even worse.

"We'll be back at the Ghost soon, and we can get you fixed up there," Kanan says, looking at Winter over his shoulder. "You can rest now. We'll take care of things from here."

Winter nods, but she doesn't think she's going to be able to rest completely until they're back at the base. Considering the tension she still feels in Cassian's body, he must feel the same.

"So what were you doing at the Academy?" Ezra asks curiously. "I went undercover at an Imperial academy once too. We had to steal a Walker to get out."

"The mission is classified," Cassian says in a tone that allows no argument.

"But I think you can tell it failed," Winter adds, not able to hide the bitterness in her voice. The mission seemed to be going so well until it suddenly wasn't. And Winter knows she's to blame for her cover being blown.

She's going to find out what the discrepancy was in the transfer files and make sure no one in the Rebellion ever made that mistake again.

"You both made it out," Kanan remarks mildly. "Doesn't seem like that much of a failure to me."

Cassian's mouth twists slightly, and Winter thinks she's probably making the same face. It's a nice platitude, but both of them know that there are more important things than surviving missions. They also know that, after the rather explosive failure of their covers, the Rebellion won't be able to send in any more agents to figure out what's going on. The Academy will be much more careful now, and sending in another rebel agent is far too great a risk. Whatever's happening to those students will remain a mystery.

"We'll be coming out of hyperspace in a moment," Kanan reports. "Ezra, you get Fulcrum and Targeter to the medical bay. Hera and I will deal with the shuttle."

Ezra replies with a distinctly sarcastic-looking salute. Winter's beginning to understand why so many people in Rebel High Command don't like the Ghost crew. She doesn't mind a bit of looseness when it comes to rules and proper conduct, but she prefers it when people act more properly. Ezra most definitely does not, and Winter has the feeling Kanan can be the same. It's not fair to judge the rest of their crew without meeting them, of course, but Winter wouldn't be surprised to find out that they're all similar.

The ship shudders as it comes out of hyperspace, appearing close to another ship that looks like a freighter. Winter hisses as the movement jostles her side. She hopes they have painkillers on the Ghost, because she's in a great deal of pain.

"Honey, we're home," Kanan calls sarcastically over the comm.

 _"Was the mission a success?"_ a woman's voice replies.

"We have the two Rebel spies onboard," Kanan agrees. "But Agent Targeter needs medical treatment."

 _"I'll have Sabine prep the med bay,"_ the woman replies. _"Is it bad?"_

Kanan looks over at Winter. "What exactly happened?"

"Blaster bolt to the side," Cassian answers before she can. "She'll need bacta and painkillers if you have them."

"Did you catch that?" Kanan asks the woman.

 _"Loud and clear,"_ she replies. _"See you in a minute."_

Kanan docks the shuttle against the freighter. The door opens to reveal a huge Lasat. "Sabine's waiting for them in the med bay," he tells Kanan. "And Hera's waiting for you on the bridge."

"Ezra, get them to the med bay," Kanan says.

"Come on," Ezra tells Winter and Cassian, who follow him down a hallway and to a small room. A slight girl in Mandalorian armor, perhaps a few years older than Winter, is waiting there.

"Okay," the girl - Winter assumes she must be Sabine - says. She pats the cot next to her. "Hop on up and I'll take a look at your wound."

Winter shoots Cassian a look. There's no way she's going to be able to get on the cot by herself without passing out. Cassian nods minutely and gives her a boost. It still hurts, but significantly less than it would if she did it herself.

"Alright, boys out," Sabine announces. "I'm going to have to take your clothes off to see the extent of the damage, Agent Targeter."

Ezra files out of the room, and Cassian shoots Winter a look before he follows him. "Here," Sabine says to Winter, handing her a small patch. "It's a perigen patch. You look like you could use a painkiller."

"Thank you," Winter says softly, pressing the patch to her neck. The relief is immediate, and although the pain remains, it takes the edge off.

"You ready?" Sabine asks, nodding at Winter's uniform. They both know it's going to be painful to get off, perigen patch or not.

Winter nods. "I am."

* * *

For lack of anything better to do, Cassian follows Ezra up to the bridge. Kanan is there, along with a green-skinned Twi'lek woman.

"You must be Agent Fulcrum," the Twi'lek says. "I'm Hera Syndulla."

"A pleasure," Cassian replies. "I've heard a lot about you, Captain Syndulla. You're supposed to be one of the best pilots this side of the galaxy."

"She's the best pilot in the whole galaxy," Kanan corrects. "You haven't really flown until you've flown with Hera at the helm."

Hera rolls her eyes. "We'll get you back to your base," she tells Cassian. "And the Ghost is fast, so you'll be able to get proper medical help for your partner soon."

"Thank you," Cassian replies. "What do you plan to do with the shuttle?"

"Blow it up," Hera replies. "Zeb is in the nose gun. He's going to blast it to smithereens. That way, if the Empire figures out that we played them, they'll only find the remains of the ship."

Cassian nods. "How did you come across it anyway?"

Hera grins. "A long story. Ezra will probably be happy to tell you."

"It's a pretty cool story," Ezra adds.

 _"Can I fire on the stupid shuttle now?"_ a voice asks on the comms. Cassian recognizes the voice of the Lasat who met them when they first boarded the ship.

"Fire at will, Zeb," Hera replies.

The sound of the gun firing immediately fills the air, and the shuttle explodes in front of them. "Well, now that that's done with, we can head to your base," Hera tells Cassian. "You can go get comfortable in the common area if you want to. It'll be a few hours before we get there."

Cassian is pretty sure that's a subtle dismissal, so he inclines his head slightly and leaves the bridge. He knows he and Ezra passed what looked like a common area on their way to the bridge, so he retraces his steps and finds it again.

The Lasat - Hera called him Zeb - lumbers in a minute later. He gives Cassian a look. "You want clothes that aren't Imperial?" he asks. "We've got a spare flight suit. Or Kanan might have something you can wear. It'd be a bit long, but we could make it work."

"I'm fine, thank you," Cassian replies. "Agent Fulcrum, by the way."

"Zeb Orellios," Zeb replies. "And the girl was Agent Targeter, right?"

"Yes," Cassian replies. Perhaps he should say more, but Cassian has always been naturally taciturn. It's a good quality in a spy. Zeb doesn't seem to mind the lack of conversation, simply sitting down and stretching out his legs. The silence between them is almost companionable.

It's shattered the second Ezra comes into the room.

"You didn't have to go right then," he tells Cassian. "We weren't kicking you out. You didn't have to come down here alone."

"Hey!" Zeb protests. "I'm here too."

"Then he probably wishes he were alone," Ezra replies.

Zeb glares at him. Ezra is remarkably unfazed.

"Anyway, I was going to tell you how we got the shuttle." Ezra sits down next to Cassian, meaning he's stuck between him and Zeb. It's not a position Cassian likes being in, but he tamps down on his survival instincts. A rebel ship piloted by a rebel crew is far from the most dangerous place he's ever been.

Ezra starts telling a very long story. Cassian pays attention to maybe a third of it. It's far too detailed and, Cassian suspects, exaggerated to make it sound more interesting. Zeb makes a few comments, all of which Ezra blatantly ignores. Neither of them seem to mind that Cassian isn't commenting himself.

"Agent Fulcrum?" a new voice asks. Cassian looks up to see Sabine enter the common area. She's wiping bacta off her hands. "Agent Targeter is asking for you."

"If you'll excuse me," Cassian says to Ezra, who gets up and moves out of the way for him immediately. He nods to Sabine and heads to the med bay, only almost getting lost once. Winter is sitting on the cot, wearing the tight gray pants from her Imperial uniform and a baggy shirt that Cassian doesn't recognize. "Are you feeling better?" he asks immediately.

"Much better," Winter replies, although she looks wan and still somewhat pained. "I wanted to apologize for the way the mission went."

"It wasn't your fault," Cassian replies immediately. "You didn't file the incorrect paperwork."

"I looked over the paperwork and didn't catch the error," Winter replies. "And Namore only contacted Imperial Center because I stuck out and you started working with me. If I'd kept a lower profile, it wouldn't have been a problem."

"You couldn't have known," Cassian assures her. "It wasn't your fault, Winter."

Using her name is a bit of a security risk, but Cassian doesn't deem it a very big one. He decides it's worth it, considering how much it seems to make Winter relax.

"There was one student who might be somewhat sympathetic towards the Rebellion," Winter reports. "Or at least not entirely loyal to the Empire. My roommate Rhylla didn't approve of a lot of the Academy's practices. I was thinking I might try to groom her as a future double agent, but obviously, that didn't happen."

"I built a back door into the system," Cassian admits.

Winter gapes at him. "You did _what_?"

"I'm a fairly good slicer, so I made a secret back door into the system. I don't know how long we'll be able to use it, but we might be able to get some usable intel."

Winter shakes her head, looking amazed. "All I have is a potential dissenter from the Empire and a theory as to where the missing students are going. It doesn't seem like much compared to a way into the system."

"What's your theory?" Cassian asks.

Winter shrugs, then winces like she regrets it. "Have you seen the reports about the expansion of the Death Trooper program?"

Cassian frowns. "Yes. Do you think these students are being taken for part of that program?"

"The Death Troopers are the elite," Winter replies. "And all of the students were at the top of their classes, except our operative. However, the operative was very physically able, and they were supposed to follow orders without complaint, which are two of the main things that the Empire seems to look for in the Death Troopers." Winter makes a motion that's almost like an aborted shrug, then seems to think better of it before she moves. "And the program is highly secretive, so it would make sense that the other students don't know what's going on. A few other academies have had students disappear as well, although not at the same level as this one. I think they're being taken for some elite program, and the Death Trooper program expansion seems more than just coincidental."

Cassian nods slowly. "That does make sense. We can't be certain, but I wouldn't be surprised if you were right."

"At least we have something," Winter says. Almost all the color has washed out of her face. Cassian would give her another painkiller, but the Ghost crew seem to be using perigen patches, and the aftereffects of overusing perigen can be unpleasant.

"You should rest," Cassian says instead. "Captain Syndulla says it'll be a few hours before we reach base."

Winter presses her lips together. "I'm not sure if there's any comfortable way to lie down."

"On your stomach, maybe?" Cassian suggests. "The injury seemed mostly on your back and side."

Winter looks down at the cot and begins to gingerly move herself into a position where she can lie on her stomach. Cassian helps her shift until she's lying on the cot, her head turned to the side.

"I think it's the best I'll be able to get," Winter says, her breathing a little shallow. "I'll try to rest."

"I'll wake you when we get to base," Cassian promises. For a second, he thinks Winter's going to say something more, but she doesn't, just closes her eyes and lets out a long exhale. Cassian opens the door of the med bay and steps out.

He can hear voices as he approaches the common area, the loudest of which he can easily identify as Ezra. "I thought Ahsoka was Fulcrum!" he's protesting. "This guy is not Ahsoka."

"There are multiple Fulcrum agents, I _told_ you that," Kanan sighs. "This guy is just another Fulcrum agent."

Cassian probably shouldn't be listening to this, but he's a spy, and old habits die hard. He stays outside the common area, listening silently.

"I've heard about Agent Targeter," Hera remarks. "I've heard a lot about different Fulcrums too, but I don't know if I've heard anything about this one. But Agent Targeter is supposed to be very good."

"She's my age!" Ezra cries.

"And?" Sabine counters. "That doesn't mean she can't be good."

"I wonder how the mission went wrong," Zeb remarks. "Their covers must have been blown somehow."

"It's not easy to break into an Imperial academy," Ezra says in a knowledgable voice.

"Yeah, we all know you've done it," Zeb groans. "And who got you out of there?"

"I'm pretty sure I got myself out of there."

"Like hell you did, kid."

Cassian hears someone getting up and swiftly moves to enter the common area. He doesn't want the others to find him listening in from the hallway, even though he doesn't think anything they've said is classified, except perhaps the name Ahsoka. Cassian's never heard the name before, but apparently she's another Fulcrum agent.

Cassian shouldn't look into it, but he can't deny that he's curious.

"Is Agent Targeter alright?" Hera asks when he steps into the common area. She's the one standing, probably heading back to the bridge.

"Yes, thank you," Cassian replies. "Thank you again for extracting us and helping Agent Targeter."

"We were glad to help," Hera replies. She claps Cassian on the shoulder when she passes him and offers him a smile. "We're still a few hours out, so you should get some rest. Someone will wake you when we land."

Cassian presses his lips together and nods. He knows that the crew of the Ghost are part of the Rebellion and thus are unlikely to stab him in the back while he sleeps, but Cassian has always been a bit paranoid. Still, Hera is right; he should rest.

Cassian sits in the common area for a while, the others passing in and out, and tries to drift off to sleep. He can't manage it, though, so he gets up and begins to wander.

He ends up in front of the med bay, and in retrospect, he probably should have come here from the start.

Winter is still sleeping, her brow slightly wrinkled, either from pain or from something in her dream. There isn't another bed, but there's a chair, and Cassian sits down. He's slept in less comfortable places.

He closes his eyes, matching his breathing to Winter's, and drifts off to sleep.

* * *

When Winter peels her eyes open, she's lying on a bed in a familiar-looking infirmary. Sitting by her side is a familiar figure.

"Hey," Leia says, leaning forward and setting aside the datapad in her lap. "About time you woke up."

"How long have I been out?" Winter asks, her voice scratchy from disuse. Leia gives her a glass of water, which Winter sucks down greedily.

"You were barely conscious when the Ghost crew brought you here," Leia replies. "So the medics here gave you a sedative and put you in a bacta tank."

"That would explain why I feel like I'm coated in slime," Winter says, making a face. She doesn't like being submerged in bacta, although she has to admit it does its job. Her back and side don't hurt anymore.

"No one told me how badly you were hurt until after you'd already been put in the tank," Leia complains.

Winter frowns at Leia. "Aren't you supposed to be in the Senate with Father?"

"That was before we heard your mission went bad," Leia replies. "I got here right after you did. Father couldn't leave the Imperial Center, but he wants you to know that he loves you and that you need to be more careful."

"Father worries too much," Winter dismisses.

"You would have died if you hadn't gotten treatment when you did," Leia retorts. "I don't think he was worrying too much. Anyway, you know he doesn't like it when you do these sorts of missions."

"But he understands that I have to do them. This mission was important."

"Important enough for you to risk your life?"

"Leia, you know it was."

Leia visibly deflates, slumping in her chair. Winter notices that she looks exhausted and wonders how long it's been since Leia last slept. She has no idea how long she was in the bacta tank, but she has the feeling that Leia's been by her side the whole time.

"I'm just worried about you," Leia mumbles, her voice tentative in a way it almost never is. "We almost lost you, Winter. You haven't had a close call like this since that vibroblade incident, and I guess I just forgot how scary it is."

"I didn't mean to scare you," Winter says gently. "But Leia, I have to keep doing this. It makes a difference, and we all have to make a difference. You do it in the Senate with Father, and I do it on these missions."

Leia smiles slightly. "I know. But that doesn't mean I can't worry about you anyway."

"And stars know that no one can stop you from doing anything you have your mind set on," Winter replies dryly.

Leia actually laughs at that and pulls Winter in for a hug. "I'm glad you're okay, sis." She pulls away and makes a face. "But you are a bit slimy. Do you want to go get cleaned up? I have some clothes for you. Oh, and I have this too." Leia grabs a small vial and holds it out. "The black hair still creeps me out. Can we take the dye out?"

" _Stars_ , yes," Winter replies, eager to wash herself and have her natural hair color back. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and tries to stand, but the rush of blood to her head makes her sway. Leia's arm wraps around her waist immediately, holding her upright.

"Slow down, Winter. I've got you."

"I know," Winter replies, leaning on Leia as they slowly make their way to the fresher. Leia sets her down on the low bench in the shower, installed for those who can't stand long enough to shower. In the infirmary, that's a large percentage of people. Winter thinks she'd be able to stand up for her shower, but she doubts Leia will let her.

"Alright," Leia announces, setting the vial of dye-remover down on the counter next to a small pile of clothes and a few other bottles. "I brought you casual clothes for now, but I have some of your dresses on my ship."

"I won't need them here," Winter counters, reaching to untie the flimsy gown the medics must have put her in after she was taken out of the bacta. She lets it fall to the ground, unashamed of her nakedness in front of Leia. They're sisters, and they've both seen the other in various states of undress over the years. They both tend to help each other get into their formal dresses, so this isn't a particularly strange situation.

"You're coming back to the Imperial Center with me tomorrow," Leia replies, kicking the gown into the corner. "Father's orders," she adds before Winter can protest.

"Why? I can do more good here-"

"I think Father wants you where he can watch over you," Leia replies. "He's probably even more worried about you than I was. Mother knew you'd get through it, but Father was beside himself."

"As usual," Winter sighs. Breha has always been more accepting of Winter's intelligence missions than Bail, who doesn't like either Winter or Leia putting themselves in danger. "So he's grounding me?"

"Pretty much," Leia agrees. "Are you going to be able to shower by yourself or should I strip down and join you?"

"I can wash myself, thank you very much," Winter replies primly. "Pass me the soap."

Leia takes the various bottles and sets them down on the bench next to Winter. "Soap, shampoo, conditioner, and dye-remover. And I have some lotion here too, since your hands always seem to get beat up on these missions."

Winter holds out one of her hands and studies it. "If I'm going to the Imperial Center, I need to do my nails," she muses. "They look horrible."

Leia shrugs. "Mine always do and no one cares."

"But I, dear sister, have a reputation for cleanliness to uphold."

Leia sticks her tongue out at Winter. "Then you should probably shower and get all the bacta off you. You're not very clean if you're all slimy."

Winter pulls the door to the shower closed and turns on the water. Showering with water is a luxury she didn't have at the Academy, and it feels lovely to do it again. The first thing she does is use the dye-remover to return her hair to its natural white, the inky black water flowing down the drain. Once the dye is gone, Winter washes and conditions her hair, then washes her body twice. She can hear Leia humming absentmindedly outside the shower, an Alderaanian lullaby their mother used to sing to them when they were children.

When Winter is all washed and rinsed, she turns off the shower and opens the door. Leia hands her a towel, which she wraps around herself, and then gives her another for her hair. "Let me see your hands," she commands, grabbing the lotion.

"I can do this myself," Winter protests, but she lets Leia massage the lotion into her hands. With Leia's help, she dresses in the plain clothes Leia brought for her, then Winter braids her hair loosely and steps out of the fresher, Leia behind her.

"The medics want to do one more test now that you're conscious, then you'll be released," Leia tells her. "The bacta seems to have done its job, though. There's not even a mark where you were shot."

"And then what?" Winter asks. "We're not leaving until tomorrow, yes?"

"Then I'm taking a nap," Leia announces. "I'm exhausted. You can do whatever you want, as long as you're careful. Father will have a heart attack if anything else happens to you."

"You do remember I'm your older sister," Winter teases.

"And who's the heir to the throne?" Leia counters, also playful. It's true; even if Winter is older by about a month, Leia was adopted first and thus is first in the line of succession. By Alderaanian rules, only the heir is called prince or princess, so Leia is a princess while Winter's official title is Second Daughter. Winter doesn't mind that Leia is in line for the throne instead of her; she knows as well as Leia that, whenever Leia does become Queen, Winter is going to be her right-hand-woman. Leia's always taken after Bail and shown more interest in the Senate, but Winter has always followed Breha and learned about ruling a planet. Together, they'll manage Alderaan well enough.

"By the way," Winter says, trying to sound casual, "you haven't heard anything about Agent Fulcrum, have you? The one who accompanied me on my mission?"

"No, everything about the mission and Fulcrum is classified. Why?"

"I wouldn't have gotten out of the Academy without Fulcrum's help," Winter replies. "I was hoping for an opportunity to thank him."

Leia shakes her head sympathetically. "Maybe you'll see him around base."

"Maybe," Winter murmurs. She hopes so.

Before Winter or Leia can say anything else, a medic bustles into the room and ushers Winter off for her final test before her release. Leia watches with amusement in her eyes as Winter resignedly allows the medics to prod and poke at her.

She'll do her best to find Fulcrum before she leaves for the Imperial Center. She's not sure if she thanked him or not - all of her memories from after getting shot are a little fuzzy - but she wants to make sure she does now.

* * *

Cassian is just heading to a debriefing with Draven when he sees the Alderaanian princess. He's heard people talking about her - apparently, even though she's only sixteen, she's very beautiful - but he only catches a glimpse then. She's dressed in white, her dark hair twisted in buns on either side of her head. She's walking along with someone else, a woman in a deep red dress with her long white in braided loops.

It's not until the other figure turns that Cassian realizes he knows her.

"Targeter?"

Winter blinks, looking around for a moment before she sees him. "Fulcrum!" She runs forward, leaving the princess behind. "Oh, I'm so glad I saw you before I left!"

"Before you left?" Cassian repeats. "Are you off on another mission?"

"Oh, no," Winter replies, shaking her head. "And please don't call me Targeter."

"What should I call you, then?" Cassian asks, wondering what her current alias is.

"Winter," she replies with a grin. "I'm really not on a mission, Fulcrum. My father panicked after I got hurt on the last one, and now he's dragging me to the Imperial Center so he can keep an eye on me."

"If Father could trust you to take care of yourself, he wouldn't have to do this," a new voice remarks dryly, and Cassian looks over to see the princess has joined their conversation. "Hi," she says to Cassian, offering him a slight smile. "I'm Leia. I hear I have you to thank for getting my sister out of her last mission alive?"

"Your sister?" Cassian repeats dumbly.

"Don't tell anyone," Winter tells him quickly. "We don't want word getting out that Agent Targeter is the Second Daughter of Alderaan."

"He looks a little stunned," Leia remarks. "But he's cute."

"Leia!"

"So you're a princess?" Cassian asks.

"Technically, no," Winter replies. "On Alderaan, only the heir is called princess, so Leia's the princess, and I'm the Second Daughter. But by other planets' rules, I would be a princess, yes."

"If you're wondering why the Second Daughter of Alderaan is a Rebel spy, we're wondering the same thing too," Leia adds sarcastically.

"Our father was a founding member of the Rebellion, along with Mon Mothma," Winter says. Cassian, of course, knows this; it's somewhat of an open secret that Bail Organa, and Alderaan in general, is sympathetic to the Rebellion. "I've been working as a spy for a while now, when I'm not helping Mother at home or Father on the Imperial Center. Leia works with the rebellion too, but she doesn't go undercover like I do."

"I'm more recognizable than you," Leia teases.

"But I have a perfect memory," Winter teases back.

Winter is far more casual with her sister than she's ever been with Cassian, although he supposes that makes sense. It's still strange to think that she's royalty, but Cassian figures she has always had a sort of official sense to her. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to see that as regal.

"Princess!" a voice calls. A man runs up to Leia and Winter, looking around worriedly. "Princess, the ship is almost ready to leave."

"We'll be along in a few minutes," Leia replies. She's standing differently now, more upright and stiff. Winter is doing the same. In this moment, Cassian can clearly see that they're the Princess and Second Daughter of Alderaan.

"Very well, Princess," the man replies, bowing deeply before scurrying off.

"We do have to go soon," Leia tells Winter, looking apologetic. "I have a few last things I need to do before we go, but I'll comm you when we need to go."

Winter blinks. "I can go-"

"Stay here," Leia assures her. "I can handle this. You can handle him." She winks at Fulcrum.

"Leia!"

Leia cackles as she walks off. Cassian watches her for a moment, then looks back at Winter.

"She's… not quite what I expected."

"She likes to tease me," Winter sighs.

Cassian looks over Winter again. Her dress is a deep red, made of a satiny fabric that looks like it would be incredibly soft to the touch. She has a burgundy cloak over it with silver fastenings, and there's a silver belt at her hips. Her hair, which is now white instead of black, is twisted into two braids that are pinned into two loops, and there's a delicate silver circlet around her forehead. If Cassian looks closely, ignoring the light makeup and new hair color, he can see that it's the same girl he went on a mission with, but the differences are fairly extreme.

"The white is my natural hair color," Winter remarks.

Cassian jumps. "What?"

"The white hair," Winter explains, picking up one of her braided loops. "It's my natural hair color. I dye it black when I go undercover so I'm less recognizable. The black hair is far more unobtrusive than white."

Cassian nods. "You certainly looked much different undercover than you do now."

"That's the point," Winter replies. "It keeps both me and my planet safer. If it became known that the Second Daughter of Alderaan was a Rebel spy, if the Empire found out…"

Cassian knows as well as anyone else that Alderaan is just barely able to hide its Rebel sympathies. It's only because it's a Core World, and a very well-respected one, that it's able to get away with everything that it does. Without definitive proof, even the Emperor himself apparently won't risk an attack on such a planet. But if a member of the Alderaanian royal family is found to be a Rebel spy, Cassian doubts the Imperials will have much more patience.

"I won't tell anyone," Cassian promises.

"I know you won't," Winter replies.

"Why did you tell me?"

"If I didn't make it, I wanted to make sure my family found out what happened." Winter shrugs. "I thought I could trust you to find them, if you knew my name."

Cassian knows that, had Winter died on their mission, he would have done everything he could to make sure her family knew what had happened to her. "I would have found them."

"I know." Winter frowns slightly. "And what about you? You told me your name."

"You trusted me with your name, I trusted you with mine," Cassian replies. "I don't have any family left, and there's no one my name could be used to hurt."

Winter has some sympathy in her eyes, but she doesn't give voice to any useless platitudes. Cassian appreciates that. Given that she doesn't look like Senator Organa or Queen Breha, nor does she use the last name Organa, Cassian wouldn't be surprised if she were adopted. In that case, she might be able to at least partially understand what it's like to lose your parents, even if she found new ones and Cassian didn't. She seems to understand that hearing the empty regrets of other people doesn't do anything to help.

"If you ever need help, you can call on me," Winter says. "You saved my life. I wouldn't have made it out of that Academy without you. If I can ever do anything to repay that…"

"I'll remember," Cassian promises. "And if you need my help again, I'll do my best to give it."

A slow smile spreads across Winter's lips. Without warning, she leans forward and pulls Cassian into a hug. He's startled and slow to respond, but after a moment, he wraps his arms around her as well. Even through the layers of formal clothing, she's very small. In a better universe, a sixteen year old girl, even a sixteen year old royal, would never have to be in a situation like the one Cassian and Winter just endured. It's unfair that Winter has to deal with that, but the whole reason they put themselves in those situations is to create that better universe for the people yet to come.

"Thank you, Cassian Andor," Winter whispers in Cassian's ear. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," Cassian replies, a little thrown. He can't remember the last time he was hugged like this.

"Winter!" Leia's voice calls. "We need to go!"

Winter lets go of Cassian and takes a rueful step back. "I hope to see you again someday, Agent Fulcrum."

"I hope so too," Cassian agrees.

Winter offers him one last fleeting smile, then she turns and walks over to Leia. Cassian watches her for a moment, then he turns away, walking to his debriefing.

Winter is going to help fight their war in the Senate, and Cassian is going to keep fighting here.

* * *

"He's cute," Leia says.

"Leia, for star's sake, can you stop?" Winter demands. "You're almost as bad as my roommates at the Academy."

"Fulcrum was a heartthrob?" Leia asks. "Not surprised."

" _Leia_."

Leia grins. "You never show interest in _anybody_. I have to seize this opportunity when it comes along."

"I'm not interested in Fulcrum!" Winter protests. "I'm grateful that he saved my life, and I think he's a good friend, but that's it. He's seven years older than us, Leia!"

Leia sighs. "If it really bothers you, I'll stop."

"Thank you," Winter replies. She turns away from her sister and starts towards the ship, moving quickly to avoid being late. If their ship doesn't get to the Imperial Center on time, their father will likely panic.

Leia catches up to Winter quickly. "How do you know where the ship is?"

"You mentioned it," Winter replies. "Yesterday, after the medical exam."

"I did?" Leia looks a bit confused. "I guess I forgot."

"I didn't," Winter replies, a hint of smugness to her tone.

"Yes, you have a perfect memory, I know," Leia sighs. "I'm sure you can remember how many times you've teased me about this."

"Why, sister dear, I would never do such a thing!"

"You are the _worst_ ," Leia groans. "Come on, let's get to the ship. Father will be waiting for us. Once we're far enough away from base for it to be safe, we need to comm him. I don't think he'll believe you're alright until he sees you himself."

"He was that worried?" Winter asks, a little surprised. She didn't know that knowledge of exactly how badly her mission had gone had gotten all the way to Bail. Leia wouldn't have been able to comm him while they were on base, and Winter had thought all Bail knew was that something in her mission had gone wrong.

"Oh, he always is," Leia replies. "Whenever you go on missions that mean we can't be in contact with you, he's always worried. And then with this one, when we got word that the mission had gone wrong, he was about _this_ close to dropping everything and coming straight here."

"So I'm getting a lecture when we comm him?" Winter asks.

Leia shrugs. "Yeah, probably."

They reach the ship quickly, and Winter feels herself standing straighter, her back stiff and her chin up. Next to her, Leia is going through the same transformation, from a normal girl to an Alderaanian princess.

"Princess," one of the aides greets, standing at the top of the ramp. Turning to Winter, he adds, "Your Highness. If I may, we were very happy to hear that you were going to be alright."

"Thank you, Vash," Winter replies. "How are your children? The youngest just had a birthday, didn't she?"

Vash laughs. "Your memory really never fails, does it? Yes, little Silva just turned five. Your father was kind enough to give me leave to go back to Alderaan to celebrate with her."

"That must have been lovely," Winter replies, smiling. "I'm sure she had a lovely day."

"She did," Vash agrees. He ushers Winter and Leia onto the ship. "We'll take off in a few minutes. Princess, Your Highness." He bows and leaves.

"Some people would say that the Second Daughter of Alderaan shouldn't be so friendly with her father's senatorial aides," Leia says in a mock-stern voice as they head to their rooms. It's something Winter has heard many, many times, and something both she and Leia find ridiculous.

"And others would remember that the Second Daughter's biological mother was a senatorial aide, and that the Second Daughter herself works as a sort of aide to the Princess," Winter counters. "Anyway, it's good to be friendly with the aides. They can trust me, and they often hear the most interesting things."

"Really?" Leia asks, curious. "What do they hear?"

"All sorts of things," Winter replies. "Things that no one would say in front of another senator. But considering many of the senators barely seem to notice the aides, their tongues tend to be much freer in front of them."

"So is that how you're always so up to date on senatorial gossip?"

Winter hums in agreement. "A lot of it is useless, but sometimes you can find out some very interesting bits of trivia."

"Maybe I should start becoming friends with the aides," Leia muses.

"I pass on all the interesting information to you and Father anyway," Winter replies, shrugging. "And some of the aides might be intimidated to talk to a princess."

"On many planets, you'd be considered a princess too."

"Not on Alderaan."

"Fine," Leia sighs. "Keep your friends. I'll make some of my own."

"You've always been good at that," Winter replies dryly. "Remember all the times I covered for you so you could go see those _friends_ that Mother and Father didn't approve of?"

"Oh, and our aunts most definitely didn't approve of them," Leia agrees.

"They were furious when they found out," Winter replies fondly.

"With both of us, but especially me."

"Well, you _were_ the one who was actually going out on 'lawless expeditions that would risk the honor of the Organa name,' as Aunt Rouge said."

"I still don't understand why she was so upset."

"Well, you know Aunt Rouge," Winter replies, shrugging. "She always tried to drill proper etiquette into our heads."

"She only succeeded with you."

"Because I have no choice but to remember everything she said."

Leia laughs. "A horrible fate indeed."

The ship takes off then, although it's so smooth that it's almost impossible to tell that it happened. Winter sits down and leans back. "How long until we're able to comm Father?"

"He's going to lecture you, you know."

"Well, I might as well get it out of the way."

Leia shakes her head fondly. "Well, we'll need to get into hyperspace, and it's best if we wait until we've been in hyperspace for a while. Maybe half an hour?"

"And then Father will lecture me for at least an hour-"

"I'd think longer."

"-So that'll take up a good part of the flight back to the Imperial Center."

"We're taking a different hyperspace route," Leia counters. "We have to make an extra jump. It'll take a little longer than usual."

"Security reasons?" Winter asks.

"Security reasons," Leia confirms. "The Empire has been looking more closely at the ships traveling to and from the Outer Rim. Hopefully, it'll pass if they don't find anything, but…"

"But for now, we need to be careful not to lead the Empire to the Rebellion," Winter finishes.

"Exactly," Leia agrees.

"So should we wait longer to comm Father?"

"I thought you wanted to get the lecture over with."

"Well, not at the cost of the Rebellion. If this is my sacrifice to make, I will make it."

Leia grins. "Well, I guess we could delay it until after we finish the first jump. For security reasons, of course."

"Of course," Winter agrees. "Father will have to wait a while longer to lecture me."

"First, he's going to be glad you're alive and well," Leia corrects. "Then he'll lecture you."

"You seem far too excited for this. Whose side are you on anyway?"

Leia shrugs. "You scared me too. Watching you get lectured will be cathartic."

"Some sister you are," Winter grumbles.

"You know I'm the best sister you could ever hope to get."

"Unequivocally false."

"Now who's a terrible sister?"

Winter grins. "Still you."

Leia shakes her head, affecting a disappointed expression. "Such cruelty to your princess."

"Such cruelty to your older sister."

"My older sister who just nearly got herself killed," Leia counters. "I think I have the right to be a little annoyed."

"I'm fine, Lelila," Winter says gently, pulling Leia closer to her. "I got back, and I'm fine."

"You're fine," Leia agrees, although she doesn't move away from Winter's side. "You're fine."

Winter presses a kiss to the top of her sister's head. "We're fine," she says softly, and they are.


End file.
